[Fic] Hanararetakunai no Te - The Hand I’ll Never Let Go
A Tribute to my One True Fandom. Live on, TxN~!
Title : 放られたくないの手
(Hanararetakunai no Te - The Hand I’ll Never Let Go )
Author: Polluxa
Pairing : TutixNagayan
Rating: Worksafe
Warning: Weird fetish for long fingers...
Disclaimer : This has no actual base in reality. Um. And a big, warm thank you for ”manikineko” for allowing me to use her interesting tidbit of info on fingers in this fic ^^
Summary: Takashi can sing for hours about the beauty of Yuuichi’s hand.
Betaread by kooriyoukai.
That hand.
He opened the page and there it was. That bare, naked hand. It was holding a lit match above the waiting wick of a candle shaped like the number two. A pair of metal bracelets dangled from the wrist, adding an accent to it.
Takashi blinked.
Then he stared at the page again.
There was… something… about that hand that he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Something that stirred this strange feeling in the innermost nook of his heart and tied a nervous knot within his belly.
Perhaps it was the long, thin fingers that he’d always wanted to have? Or maybe it was the gesture the hand made while doing something as simple as lighting a candle that caused it to look so graceful?
For the first time in the years he had known the owner, he took the time to pay close attention to that hand. He traced invisible maps on that skin with his eyes, as if trying to memorize every curve, every shade of complexion, and carve it eternally into his mind. The hand wasn’t perfect. The fingers looked too long. The skin wasn’t smooth. Patches of soft hair accentuated parts of it, while the area around the knuckles looked a tad reddish. It was lightly tanned, with veins running visibly along the back and up the wrist.
It looked like a manly hand.
But why did the word “beautiful” keep popping up in Takashi’s mind when he looked at the hand in that photo?
“What are you doing?” asked Tuti, as he put a glass of red wine on the table in front of his friend.
Takashi was sitting on the wooden floor of Tuti’s living room with his back against the foot of a black couch. Tuti dropped himself onto the cushion behind him with another glass of wine in hand. Tuti leaned over his shoulder to look at the photo book spread open on Takashi’s lap.
“Ah, you found that old book,” Tuti said, sounding amused.
“Hnn.”
Takashi took his glass and sipped at the Amarone, careful not to let it drip onto the page he was still very much absorbed in. He didn’t even hear the soft chuckle that came from behind him until after the owner of that chuckle prodded him on the back with a knee.
“Oi.”
“Hnn?”
“Is there a wart on my hand there? Or did I mention something about Starbucks in the paragraphs?”
“What? No. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just wondering: why are you glaring at that page? You even have your Hitsugaya Frown on.”
Takashi turned around to look at Tuti. “I do?”
Tuti laughed his delicious laugh. He pressed a finger to Takashi’s forehead, right between the two shapely brows.
“Uh-huh. There it is.”
Tuti made a circling motion with his fingers and pushed it gently so that Takashi’s head started to lean backwards.
“You liar.”
Takashi broke into a laugh and caught Tuti’s hand with his own. The laugh faded subtly into a smile as he stared at the hand he had just caught, before a look of curious amusement settled on his face.
Several long seconds passed when both of them said nothing, Tuti’s hand still under Takashi’s close scrutiny.
“What is it?” asked Tuti, a ghost of a laugh haunting his lips.
Takashi spread Tuti’s hand and pressed his own to it so they were connected palm to palm. He could feel the other man tense slightly. Through the spaces between their joined fingers, Takashi could see the faint blush that was creeping up his friend’s face. He hid his smile behind their palms. Arousing a blush on that face was Takashi’s own secret pleasure. It was always such a thrill to see this loud and extroverted man reduced to a fidgeting, wordless mess.
“You really do have long fingers, don’t you?” said Takashi at last. “They’re even longer than they seem in the photo.”
Tuti looked as though he was finding it hard to swallow all of a sudden.
“Is that a bad thing?”
Takashi glanced up to look his friend straight in the eye. Was it just him or was there really a hint of insecurity in that question? Smiling slightly, Takashi shook his head.
“Nope. I kind of like them.”
Tuti blinked several times, seeming unsure how to react to Takashi when he was in this mood.
“Hmm, especially your index finger here... it’s pretty long.”
“Yeah. Daiki-chan always says how it freaks him out sometimes.”
Takashi grinned. “Hey, you know, I’ve read it somewhere before, that if your index finger is longer than your ring finger, it means that you have a female hand.”
“What the hell is that? Are you saying I have a girly hand?”
“I’m just telling you what I read,” Takashi grinned playfully. “They say a woman whose index finger is shorter than their ring finger has a higher chance of being a lesbian, because they have male hands. So, men who have female hands tend to be interested in other men.”
Takashi tried with all his might to keep a serious face as he watched the look on his friend’s face change from tensed nervousness, to pallid disbelief, to flushed embarrassment. It was always fun to watch Tuti’s expressive responses, but perhaps he had been too cruel this time. Not for telling lies to him-because he really did read that bit about the fingers on a magazine before-but for exposing his truth.
Takashi had for some time known about Tuti’s feelings for him. He’d have to be blind or dead not to. The guy wore his heart on his sleeve most of the times and it hadn’t taken much for Takashi’s observant eyes to catch the signs. Furtive glances that travelled across the rehearsal room that were quickly withdrawn when Takashi caught him, or gently spoken words of care when Takashi was feeling down that were awkwardly followed by loud jokes as if to hide the genuine concern behind them, or the accidental brushing of arms and elbows and knees when they stood or sat closely together that lingered longer than necessary. Just little things, but they were enough for Takashi.
Takashi hadn’t done anything about it because he too had been enjoying those little things. The thrill of catching Tuti in the act was something that had made his days much more interesting for a long while now. It was even more interesting when Takashi sometimes returned those little attentions. Tuti would smile bashfully or even flirt back and they would have a laugh afterwards. It had been fun, skirting along the line that separated friendship from a relationship. Always outside the line, but only barely. It was an interesting territory, where he could do something as simple as touch the other man’s hand and watched Tuti’s face turn into a flushed up mush, while his own heart thumped excitedly for being able to affect the other so much.
There were things that simply died when a relationship was born.
“I’ve also read that long fingers and slender hands mean you are a very sensitive and creative person.”
Tuti chuckled. “Now, that’s something I can agree with.”
“Humility is lost on you, isn’t it?”
“You’re one to talk. Heeey, what’s with the hundreds of self photos on your blog?”
“Which you save diligently and archive in a neat folder in your hard drive.”
“I KNEW it. You were the one who messed up my computer. I lost a chunk of data, thanks to you.”
“Why do you still need porn when you have a neat folder of my hundreds of self photos, Yuuichi?”
“...And you said I’m the one who’s not modest...”
Grinning widely, Takashi held that hand again and began to rub the fingers with his thumb while Tuti watched on quietly. Takashi was like a child playing with a new pet and each stroke he made over a finger sent a shiver through Tuti’s body, visible only when Takashi paid close attention to the erratic rise and fall of that chest.
“What are you doing, Takashi?”
The low, guttural tone of the question caught Takashi’s breath in his throat. He looked up again and saw two dark eyes burning into his.
He cast a slow, lazy smirk over his mouth and was glad to see something gleam savagely there in return.
“Just admiring your hand.”
“It’s probably not a very good idea.”
“Why not?”
“…Your wine is getting warm.”
“You have ice in your fridge.”
Takashi watched in amusement as Tuti unconsciously ran his tongue over his bottom lip, something Takashi knew full well as a habit he did when he was nervous. Takashi kept stroking, rubbing, and playing with the long fingers without breaking their eye contact. Alarms were going off in his head, warning him of the line he was about to cross. A line that marked his long standing friendship with this man whom he had known and worked with for years, whose existence in his life has surpassed that of a mere best friend.
And who happened to have the damn sexiest hands in the whole world.
Watching the emotions flashing across Tuti’s eyes, Takashi realized that his friend was going through the same trains of thought as he was. They were both considering, measuring what would be lost and what would be gained when that line was crossed. Takashi thought of that thrill in his days and the threat of losing them should he decide to go any further. He also thought of the long years of friendship they had gone through-all those laughs, and fights, and long hours of talking about trifling things over lattes and cigarettes. How could he risk everything that he cherished in life just to venture into that unchartered territory of their friendship?
But when he stroked those fingers once more and felt the other man shudder from his touch, new challenges opened up in his mind. They suggested the potential of new excitements to be found. Like finding out how hard Yuuichi would tremble if Takashi touched his body, when a stroke around the finger had reduced him to such a state. Or what his expression would be if watched from above while Takashi rode his naked hip. Or what that mouth would taste like when he made love to it with his tongue.
Shivering from the thoughts that assailed his mind, Takashi decided to bite the bullet.
He brought that beautiful hand to his lips and gently kissed the back of it.
“Sorry, Yuuichi,” he said as he traced his tongue along the inside of a finger, “but I couldn’t care less about that wine right now.”
He slid Tuti’s middle finger smoothly into his mouth. His eyes were ablaze with a flame similar to the one he’d ignited in the other man’s. He sucked on the finger slowly, in and out, in and out, until Tuti shifted awkwardly in his seat. Every single suck was a promise of the many pleasurable things he could do, should his friend choose to cross that line with him.
When Tuti crawled off the couch, eyes alight with raw lust, his other hand throwing the wine glass it was holding to the floor and reaching out to grab the back of Takashi’s neck, Takashi knew that the line had been crossed.
And he knew in that instant that they would not be quite so lost in the no longer uncharted territory.
FIN.
03:07 pm, August 8th, 2007
Outdoor table of KFC, Kelapa Gading
Title : 放られたくないの手
(Hanararetakunai no Te - The Hand I’ll Never Let Go )
Author: Polluxa
Pairing : TutixNagayan
Rating: Worksafe
Warning: Weird fetish for long fingers...
Disclaimer : This has no actual base in reality. Um. And a big, warm thank you for ”manikineko” for allowing me to use her interesting tidbit of info on fingers in this fic ^^
Summary: Takashi can sing for hours about the beauty of Yuuichi’s hand.
Betaread by kooriyoukai.
That hand.
He opened the page and there it was. That bare, naked hand. It was holding a lit match above the waiting wick of a candle shaped like the number two. A pair of metal bracelets dangled from the wrist, adding an accent to it.
Takashi blinked.
Then he stared at the page again.
There was… something… about that hand that he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Something that stirred this strange feeling in the innermost nook of his heart and tied a nervous knot within his belly.
Perhaps it was the long, thin fingers that he’d always wanted to have? Or maybe it was the gesture the hand made while doing something as simple as lighting a candle that caused it to look so graceful?
For the first time in the years he had known the owner, he took the time to pay close attention to that hand. He traced invisible maps on that skin with his eyes, as if trying to memorize every curve, every shade of complexion, and carve it eternally into his mind. The hand wasn’t perfect. The fingers looked too long. The skin wasn’t smooth. Patches of soft hair accentuated parts of it, while the area around the knuckles looked a tad reddish. It was lightly tanned, with veins running visibly along the back and up the wrist.
It looked like a manly hand.
But why did the word “beautiful” keep popping up in Takashi’s mind when he looked at the hand in that photo?
“What are you doing?” asked Tuti, as he put a glass of red wine on the table in front of his friend.
Takashi was sitting on the wooden floor of Tuti’s living room with his back against the foot of a black couch. Tuti dropped himself onto the cushion behind him with another glass of wine in hand. Tuti leaned over his shoulder to look at the photo book spread open on Takashi’s lap.
“Ah, you found that old book,” Tuti said, sounding amused.
“Hnn.”
Takashi took his glass and sipped at the Amarone, careful not to let it drip onto the page he was still very much absorbed in. He didn’t even hear the soft chuckle that came from behind him until after the owner of that chuckle prodded him on the back with a knee.
“Oi.”
“Hnn?”
“Is there a wart on my hand there? Or did I mention something about Starbucks in the paragraphs?”
“What? No. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just wondering: why are you glaring at that page? You even have your Hitsugaya Frown on.”
Takashi turned around to look at Tuti. “I do?”
Tuti laughed his delicious laugh. He pressed a finger to Takashi’s forehead, right between the two shapely brows.
“Uh-huh. There it is.”
Tuti made a circling motion with his fingers and pushed it gently so that Takashi’s head started to lean backwards.
“You liar.”
Takashi broke into a laugh and caught Tuti’s hand with his own. The laugh faded subtly into a smile as he stared at the hand he had just caught, before a look of curious amusement settled on his face.
Several long seconds passed when both of them said nothing, Tuti’s hand still under Takashi’s close scrutiny.
“What is it?” asked Tuti, a ghost of a laugh haunting his lips.
Takashi spread Tuti’s hand and pressed his own to it so they were connected palm to palm. He could feel the other man tense slightly. Through the spaces between their joined fingers, Takashi could see the faint blush that was creeping up his friend’s face. He hid his smile behind their palms. Arousing a blush on that face was Takashi’s own secret pleasure. It was always such a thrill to see this loud and extroverted man reduced to a fidgeting, wordless mess.
“You really do have long fingers, don’t you?” said Takashi at last. “They’re even longer than they seem in the photo.”
Tuti looked as though he was finding it hard to swallow all of a sudden.
“Is that a bad thing?”
Takashi glanced up to look his friend straight in the eye. Was it just him or was there really a hint of insecurity in that question? Smiling slightly, Takashi shook his head.
“Nope. I kind of like them.”
Tuti blinked several times, seeming unsure how to react to Takashi when he was in this mood.
“Hmm, especially your index finger here... it’s pretty long.”
“Yeah. Daiki-chan always says how it freaks him out sometimes.”
Takashi grinned. “Hey, you know, I’ve read it somewhere before, that if your index finger is longer than your ring finger, it means that you have a female hand.”
“What the hell is that? Are you saying I have a girly hand?”
“I’m just telling you what I read,” Takashi grinned playfully. “They say a woman whose index finger is shorter than their ring finger has a higher chance of being a lesbian, because they have male hands. So, men who have female hands tend to be interested in other men.”
Takashi tried with all his might to keep a serious face as he watched the look on his friend’s face change from tensed nervousness, to pallid disbelief, to flushed embarrassment. It was always fun to watch Tuti’s expressive responses, but perhaps he had been too cruel this time. Not for telling lies to him-because he really did read that bit about the fingers on a magazine before-but for exposing his truth.
Takashi had for some time known about Tuti’s feelings for him. He’d have to be blind or dead not to. The guy wore his heart on his sleeve most of the times and it hadn’t taken much for Takashi’s observant eyes to catch the signs. Furtive glances that travelled across the rehearsal room that were quickly withdrawn when Takashi caught him, or gently spoken words of care when Takashi was feeling down that were awkwardly followed by loud jokes as if to hide the genuine concern behind them, or the accidental brushing of arms and elbows and knees when they stood or sat closely together that lingered longer than necessary. Just little things, but they were enough for Takashi.
Takashi hadn’t done anything about it because he too had been enjoying those little things. The thrill of catching Tuti in the act was something that had made his days much more interesting for a long while now. It was even more interesting when Takashi sometimes returned those little attentions. Tuti would smile bashfully or even flirt back and they would have a laugh afterwards. It had been fun, skirting along the line that separated friendship from a relationship. Always outside the line, but only barely. It was an interesting territory, where he could do something as simple as touch the other man’s hand and watched Tuti’s face turn into a flushed up mush, while his own heart thumped excitedly for being able to affect the other so much.
There were things that simply died when a relationship was born.
“I’ve also read that long fingers and slender hands mean you are a very sensitive and creative person.”
Tuti chuckled. “Now, that’s something I can agree with.”
“Humility is lost on you, isn’t it?”
“You’re one to talk. Heeey, what’s with the hundreds of self photos on your blog?”
“Which you save diligently and archive in a neat folder in your hard drive.”
“I KNEW it. You were the one who messed up my computer. I lost a chunk of data, thanks to you.”
“Why do you still need porn when you have a neat folder of my hundreds of self photos, Yuuichi?”
“...And you said I’m the one who’s not modest...”
Grinning widely, Takashi held that hand again and began to rub the fingers with his thumb while Tuti watched on quietly. Takashi was like a child playing with a new pet and each stroke he made over a finger sent a shiver through Tuti’s body, visible only when Takashi paid close attention to the erratic rise and fall of that chest.
“What are you doing, Takashi?”
The low, guttural tone of the question caught Takashi’s breath in his throat. He looked up again and saw two dark eyes burning into his.
He cast a slow, lazy smirk over his mouth and was glad to see something gleam savagely there in return.
“Just admiring your hand.”
“It’s probably not a very good idea.”
“Why not?”
“…Your wine is getting warm.”
“You have ice in your fridge.”
Takashi watched in amusement as Tuti unconsciously ran his tongue over his bottom lip, something Takashi knew full well as a habit he did when he was nervous. Takashi kept stroking, rubbing, and playing with the long fingers without breaking their eye contact. Alarms were going off in his head, warning him of the line he was about to cross. A line that marked his long standing friendship with this man whom he had known and worked with for years, whose existence in his life has surpassed that of a mere best friend.
And who happened to have the damn sexiest hands in the whole world.
Watching the emotions flashing across Tuti’s eyes, Takashi realized that his friend was going through the same trains of thought as he was. They were both considering, measuring what would be lost and what would be gained when that line was crossed. Takashi thought of that thrill in his days and the threat of losing them should he decide to go any further. He also thought of the long years of friendship they had gone through-all those laughs, and fights, and long hours of talking about trifling things over lattes and cigarettes. How could he risk everything that he cherished in life just to venture into that unchartered territory of their friendship?
But when he stroked those fingers once more and felt the other man shudder from his touch, new challenges opened up in his mind. They suggested the potential of new excitements to be found. Like finding out how hard Yuuichi would tremble if Takashi touched his body, when a stroke around the finger had reduced him to such a state. Or what his expression would be if watched from above while Takashi rode his naked hip. Or what that mouth would taste like when he made love to it with his tongue.
Shivering from the thoughts that assailed his mind, Takashi decided to bite the bullet.
He brought that beautiful hand to his lips and gently kissed the back of it.
“Sorry, Yuuichi,” he said as he traced his tongue along the inside of a finger, “but I couldn’t care less about that wine right now.”
He slid Tuti’s middle finger smoothly into his mouth. His eyes were ablaze with a flame similar to the one he’d ignited in the other man’s. He sucked on the finger slowly, in and out, in and out, until Tuti shifted awkwardly in his seat. Every single suck was a promise of the many pleasurable things he could do, should his friend choose to cross that line with him.
When Tuti crawled off the couch, eyes alight with raw lust, his other hand throwing the wine glass it was holding to the floor and reaching out to grab the back of Takashi’s neck, Takashi knew that the line had been crossed.
And he knew in that instant that they would not be quite so lost in the no longer uncharted territory.
FIN.
03:07 pm, August 8th, 2007
Outdoor table of KFC, Kelapa Gading